


Angel of Mercy

by Bombastique



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Angst, Brief Mention of Vomit, Exes, F/M, Fluff, Polyamory, Sick Character, The flu, inaccurate portrayal of a hospital, parents on social media, two unreliable narrators
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-09-25 05:50:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17115629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bombastique/pseuds/Bombastique
Summary: Rey’s stubborn denial about how sick she is leaves her stranded in her apartment with no food, no medicine, no available friends. After breaking up with Ben Solo, she’d sworn she would never speak to him again. She’s only calling him because she has no one else to turn to.Kylo Ren has more important things to do than moon over lost love. He’s fighting to reform the mission and recover the reputation of the think tank his grandfather once headed. So when he answers Rey’s call, he’s only indulging idle curiosity. And when he rushes to Rey’s side, he’s just helping a fellow human being and maybe anticipating some light gloating. Just normal stuff, really.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Like_A_Dove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Like_A_Dove/gifts).



> The mention of vomit is very brief. The sentence begins “Ben was just about to allow” and then skip to the next paragraph.
> 
> Also, I’m generally not superstitious, but don’t ever write about a character catching a strain of the flu not included in the annual vaccination. Just don’t.

As she shivered in her nest of sweaty blankets, Rey finally admitted the galling truth: she had nowhere else to turn. She needed groceries, she needed to see a doctor, she needed to bathe, and if she didn’t have the energy to manage those things now, she’d have even less hours from now. She barely had the strength to lift up her phone, and finding the blocked contacts list required fighting through a feverish brain haze. She managed it, though. She unblocked That Asshole and hit call, feeling as though she had fought off a horde of marauders.

*  
The incoming call gave Kylo Ren a welcome distraction from wrestling with the strategic plan for the Damask Institute for Criminal Justice. His background was in statistics, and in the two years since his unlikely rise to the top of that once august organization, he had come to dread the need to justify his reforms to the board. Pushing his aged and corrupt mentor out and reverting to the Institute’s original name should have won him support from a pack of whining donors who wanted relevancy and respect for a think tank that had become a laughingstock for the highly variable quality of its research and policy proposals. But no, every six months he found himself checking and double checking a bold new direction in law and order approaches to criminal justice. The welcome distraction of a call this late in the evening shifted to shock when he saw the caller id.

It had been nearly eighteen months since Kylo Ren had seen Rey’s name on an incoming call. He could not say precisely how near eighteen months because he had moved on with his life. He immediately accepted the call.

“B-ben?”

Her voice should not sound so weak and tremulous. 

“Rey, what’s wrong?”

“I need soup,” she whimpered.

Back when he imagined her comi - getting back in touch with him, Ben had imagined all sorts of circumstances and pretexts, just never ... soup. 

“I’m sick,” she clarified, “I’m hot and cold and tired. I ate all the food.”

He ruthlessly curbed the desire to dig deeper and find out how all her so-called friends had failed her so spectacularly, but now was not the time. She needed help, not I told you sos. There would be time to catch up later. He needed to maintain control, so she wouldn’t pull away before he could reach her. 

“Are you still living at the same address?”

“You mean my shitty little shoebox? …. Yeah.”

Her brief flare of temper seemed to drain her of even more energy. He was glad he’d avoided editorializing about her home. She seemed to hold some resentment about his previously expressed opinions. 

“Rey, listen, I’m going to pick up some soup and then I’ll be at your place as soon as I can.”

The call ended. Ben focused on placing a pick-up order for matzo ball soup as he grabbed his coat and headed for the door. He needed to keep his mind on the task at hand and not dissecting Rey’s unfocused words for insight into her state of mind. Rey was sick. Rey needed soup. That was enough for the moment.

*  
The seedy old row house that contained Rey’s apartment was improbably even more drab than he remembered. 

Ben wondered if he would need to contact a super or a landlord or something to let him into her rooms, but when he tried her front door, it was unlocked. Just how sick was she?

“Rey? I have your soup. Should I come to you?”

During their previous entanglement, Kylo had never entered her bedroom. All their encounters had happened on the alarming looking sofa she’d proudly recalled salvaging from a street corner. The one time he’d expressed reservations about it, he’d been swiftly ejected from the apartment and found himself frantically apologizing through the front door.

As he made his way deeper into her apartment, he noticed Rey had hung holiday lights twined with dried grape vines to detract from the dullness of the walls and carpet. He didn’t know whether these were a new addition or not. He had never made it this far into Rey’s territory. 

“Ben?”

Harsh coughing immediately followed that faint question. So this was her bedroom. Her sanctum. Rey was on the other side of the door, doing considerably worse than she had been earlier by the sound of it.

Ben opened the door and stepped into Rey’s bedroom. All the details of this room flew past unnoticed as the shivering figure cocooned in blankets drew all of his focus.

“I have your soup, Rey. Do you want to eat at the table? Should I bring a tray in here?”

Bleary eyes met his. A weak stream of coughing was the only response to his questions. Her pale, pinched face alarmed him. How sick was she? Helplessness and frustration at his lack of experience with sick people boiled in his gut. He wanted to test her forehead for fever, but touching her felt like crossing a boundary. Anyway, soup was his mission. He needed to prioritize here.

“Okay. It’s unorthodox, but maybe you’d better eat your soup here in bed. Major movement might be more trouble than its worth.”

Why was he alliterating? Was it a mercy Rey was too sick to really process his words, or did he long for her to feel well enough to mock him for a sudden stream of m words?

He knelt swiftly by her bed and fumbled the bag open. Her hands reached out, but they trembled so much he didn’t trust her to feed herself. He opened the soup and fed her a spoonful of broth. After a few more spoonfuls of just broth, he fed her a spoon that had some solid ingredients. She seemed to take that well and put a considerable dent into the soup. Ben was just about to allow himself to relax when she began coughing again and suddenly vomited all over the bed. 

This was just too much. He was out of his depth here. Rey needed actual medical attention.

“Rey? Rey? You need a doctor. I’m taking you to a doctor.”

She stared up at him with glassy, miserable eyes. Then, she nodded. He peeled her out of her blanket bundle and found that she was too weak to stand on her own. He swooped an arm under her knees and caught her up against his chest as he hurried to his car.

*  
The emergency room at Yularen General Hospital was miserably crowded, full of coughing zombies, and the staff proved unhelpful when Ben inquired about getting Rey priority treatment. He hated dragging an invalid from pillar to post, but Chandrila University Hospital was just blocks from his condo and could not be any more crowded than this hellhole.

His instincts proved correct, and in short order he was explaining Rey’s circumstances to a nurse and finding that he had very little of the information she sought. Her symptoms included coughing, fever, and vomiting. How long she’d been sick and how rapidly her condition had worsened were questions he couldn’t answer. Did she have insurance? Ben’s gut roiled with helplessness and rage as he flipped through her wallet, looking for an insurance card. In the end, he gave them a credit card number to guarantee that Rey would get care allowed himself to be escorted back to the waiting room.

As he sat and stewed, he resolved to turn his violent emotions to productive use and determine why Rey’s so-called friends had abandoned her in her hour of need. He didn’t have contact information for the Ticos or Dameron, which meant unfortunately turning to people he had tried his damnedest to cut from his life. 

“I’m happy with my credit cards, and I don’t need a mortgage.”

Han Solo’s voice had a crackle of age in it.

“This is Kylo Ren of the Damask Institute for Criminal Justice. I am currently at Chandrila University Hospital with an associate of yours, Rey Nieman.”

“Ben? Is that you, Ben?”

“I no longer use that name. I legally changed it over a decade ago. And I’m not at all surprised that you’re focusing on trivia when I’m informing that a young woman you know is seriously ill.”

“I … wait, Rey’s in the hospital? She’s sick? Since when? She was fine last week …”

“Well, she’s not fine now. Rey has a severe case of the flu, and as she had no one else to turn to, she contacted me for help.”

Kylo gave no indication that he himself didn’t know how long Rey had been ill and tried not to notice the effects of age on his father’s voice and comprehension.

“Look son, I’m in Coronet right now. I can get a flight back east in the morning. Thanks for watching out for Rey. I’ll let you know when my flight gets in tomorrow”

“I assure you that isn’t necessary. I have the situation well in hand. I simply wished to inform you of Rey’s condition.”

“Look, Ben, Kylo, the conference’s only got me glad-handing with stuffed shirts tomorrow. It’s no problem at all to come back early.”

This was not how this conversation was supposed to go. Han dashing home to the bedside of an employee of his wife’s nonprofit, Han Solo using the name Kylo, Han Solo at a conference, all of it felt like a slap in the face. He felt a tightness around his eyes that he hadn’t felt in months.

“Again, there’s no need for that. The situation here is entirely under control. I am more than capable of seeing to all of Rey’s needs. I simply wished to inform you of the situation. Kindly pass word of Rey’s condition to her employer, and there is no need for us to communicate again.”

He heard his father inhale sharply and didn’t wait to learn whether the noise presaged a guffaw or a tirade. He ended the call and turned his attention to Rey’s needs. Obviously, he had to replace her bed set. She also needed food and likely medicine. At this hour of the night, his options were not ideal, but he was able to find a 24-hour Target and began selecting items for in-store pick up. Then he texted Mitaka and let him know he needed to pick up the order, organize the groceries and medicine in Rey’s kitchen, launder the new bed linens, throw out the soiled linens, and make up her bed. As an extra inducement, Kylo reminded him that his holiday bonus has not yet been disbursed. After sending the message, it occurred to him that Rey’s apartment was still unlocked, so he messaged Mitaka again and asked that he remain there until Kylo returned with Rey. That settled the most pressing concerns.

When the nurse entered the waiting room to let him know he could see Rey, he was searching his childhood memories of illness, trying to think of ways he could entertain her or needs that he hadn’t anticipated.

*  
When Rey woke up, there was an iv bag connected to her arm, a strange new sensation. She realized she must be in a hospital with a sort of distant feeling of distress. As she took in her surroundings, she also realized that Ben Solo was sitting by the dark window staring intently at the screen of his phone. Observing him, Rey realized it was possible to read furiously. The cliche of catching someone unawares was that the person would reveal some deeper, more essential layer of vulnerability. Once she had imagined gradually learning this man’s heart that way, now she wondered if the truth she would have discovered would simply have been layer after layer of rage.

“Why are you in my room? Where are we?”

Her voice grated out of her dry throat. That single sentence left her feeling exhausted. The flu was the absolute worst.

“Rey! You’re awake! We’re at Chandrila University Hospital. You were running a high fever and were badly dehydrated. We should page the nurse to let her know you’re awake.”

And there was the vulnerability. The expression of concern on Ben’s face was so tender that Rey felt the urge to flinch away from what it might mean. That expression didn’t answer any of the fresh set of questions clamoring in her exhausted mind. There were practical issues of cost and far more sensitive issues that she couldn’t bring herself to consider when she was already so drained. 

Ben put his phone away and moved quickly to the call button. He looked at her again with a silent question as his hand lingered above the button. Words took too much energy, so she simply nodded. Once he hit the button, he crouched down by the bed and reached out for her only to pause with his hand hovering in the air above her. She nodded again. He carefully brushed her hair off her face, combing his fingers through the lank, unwashed strands.

“They told me you were severely dehydrated. When your fever is down and you’re rehydrated, we can get you home.”

He spoke so gently, stroking her hair all the while. If she had more energy, she would have tilted her head into the near caress. Just as well she had no energy. This Ben reminded her of how they managed to stay together for three months once it was clear he wasn’t quitting his terrible job. Now, as she embarked on a new round of coughing, her foggy brain was running several simultaneous memories on fast forward: Ben enraged, throwing a mug at the wall of his ridiculous condo, Ben exhausted, resting his head in her lap as they cuddled on her sofa, Ben exasperated, badgering her to at least consider getting a college degree, Ben smiling as he offered her a taste of his entree. What had driven her away from him? Was it the anger, the insistence that she was stagnating by keeping a job she loved and a home she could afford, or was the way he could move so effortlessly past the barriers around her heart? How could he see parts of her that no one else ever suspected, yet still not understand her? 

Then the nurse arrived, and Rey gladly forced her mind to focus on that.

*

The nurse brought little new information. If Rey’s temperature continued to fall, and her system could handle food and water, they might be able to leave before morning. All well and good, but Ben also hoped they could do something about her cough. He stood and stretched and moved a stiff backed plastic chair to her bedside, so he could hold her hand. She seemed to do better when he kept physical contact. Lying that he’d had his flu shot was worth it if he could bring Rey a little comfort. 

She was falling asleep again. His phone buzzed. _Bought return ticket. Will be back tomorrow._ His father also sent a picture of a tiny, dewy eyed quadruped captioned Unsolicited Dik-dik Pic. Kylo shuddered and replied. _Your presence is unnecessary. I am overseeing Rey’s care. Have you received this year’s flu vaccination? If not, you should stay away for your own good. Also kindly refrain from sending me memes._ He regretted that last part as soon as he sent the message. Memes were juvenile, but he sounded nearly as stuffy as Hux. Indeed, his physical be buzzed again. The reply was a picture of Spongebob in a chapter chicken-like posture. _KinDLy rEfRaiN frOm SeNDiNg me MemEs._ He wondered who had taught his father about memes and then indulged in a brief fantasy of violence against that person. 

Unless that person was Rey. 

Kylo avoided social media, finding it both overwhelming and obnoxious. He knew Rey used some platforms but had never investigated further. After she ended things, he’d measured his self-control by maintaining that distance. Now, he found himself sorely tempted to break this compact. Instead, he decided to focus his investigatory instincts elsewhere.

His father, as it turned out, was a Twitter phenomenon. It made a kind of sense, he supposed. Han Solo has always been a glib man who enjoyed an argument, and in the three years since his parole, the sorts of people who regarded him as a political prisoner now flocked to him on-line. The familiar clash of pride, resentment, and longing he’d associated with his father since deep in his childhood roiled in his belly. It was fascinating and terrifying to be able to observe his father making friends and enemies, arguing obscure points, participating in community jokes and obsessions, and exposing his humanity in a way Kylo had rarely been able to share. This, this was why he didn’t dare look up Rey. If she had anything similar to this, he might never be able to pull himself away. He could spend all his days observing her, pretending that the off the cuff observations, the rueful confessions of minor follies, and the passionate denunciations of injustice were addressed solely to him. Better not to ever look, he reminded himself sleepily.

*

When Rey woke up this time, she felt much better. Still utterly drained, of course, but the fog in her brain had lifted. Ben had fallen asleep with his whole torso tipped forward into her lap. His phone lay by his loosely gripped right hand. His weight was as heavy as ever, so at least their break up hadn’t caused him to waste away like a Victorian maiden crossed in love. Now she pictured him in a bustle with that prim, outraged expression he’d wear when he was offended. The fit of giggles that hit didn’t cause a new round of coughing, so maybe she really was getting better. Despite Ben’s weight, she was able to reach the call button.

“How are we feeling now? Ready to try a little water?” the nurse asked as she bustled in the door.

“I would actually. I made myself laugh without causing a coughing fit, so I may be on the mend.”

Rey smiled in relief as the nurse left to fetch water, saltines, and jello. Her lap was getting stiff under Ben’s weight. She wanted to shift herself around but needed to move his phone first. As she moved it from the edge of the bed, she quickly averted her eyes from the incoming text notification. The sender’s name was Han Solo. That was something to chew on; since when did Han have Ben’s number? How long had they been in touch with each other? What did it mean?

It was overwhelming to contemplate, and the nurse was back with her jello and saltines.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the process of checking Rey out of the hospital, Ben gets a surprise that really throws him for a loop. Rey notices changes in her ex-boyfriend. Han Solo makes his shocking debut.

The thing that actually told Rey she was well enough to leave was when she remembered that she was at Chandrila University Hospital, and she had no idea how she was going to pay for her stay. Her insurance through the Organa Initiative was pretty good, considering she’d gone with the cheapest option, but this was a hospital, and they’d given her a chest x-ray, a chest x-ray! She realized just how sick she must have been to not think of the cost of all this and how she might pay for it. 

“So who do I give my insurance information to? Ben, did you bring my bag? Is my insurance card even here?”

Her questions shifted from the nurse to Ben to the uncaring universe. The nurse might have started to answer but was quickly overtaken by Ben.

“You don’t need to worry about that. I’m taking care off your bill here,” he replied brusquely.

“You can’t do that! It will take me ages to pay you back.”

“I don’t want you to pay me back. You’re here because I brought you here; therefore, I’m covering the costs.”

“Ben, they took an x-ray. It’s too much!”

“It’s nothing I can’t manage, Rey. I’m not acting recklessly here.”

How was he staying so calm? Staying calm was not a common option in the Ben Solo playbook.

“I’m not your responsibility. I just asked for soup! We’re not a thing anymore! We’re not even friends! You didn’t want to stay friends!”

“Rey, no one ever wants to stay friends! No one ever does stay friends! One person gets a friend, and the other gets a lifetime torture session! I’m paying your bill because you work too hard to lose everything you’ve fought for because of a virus and a shitty group of so-called friends!”

The nurse was gaping at them now and backing out of the room. Nearly slamming the door on the way out.

“What d’you mean about my friends? I have wonderful friends!”

“Then why am I the one at the hospital with you! Where’s my mother? Where are all her little pets? Why is my dad at a cannabis entrepreneurs’ conference in his scrap heap of a hometown?”

He was thundering now, and somehow Rey was finding the energy to hurl lightning back at him.

“What are you even talking about? Finn and Rose just had a baby! Amani is too young to get vaccinated! Don’t you know anything?”

“Why would I know which of your friends have taken it upon themselves to spawn? Anyway, what about my mother or Dameron?”

“They’re on vacation! They work hard actually helping people! They deserve a break! After he’s done in at the conference, Han’s joining the rest of the polycule!”

“Po-polycule? My parents are fucking Poe Dameron?”

The thunder disappeared leaving bewilderment in its place.

“Your parents are in an open relationship with Amilyn Holdo and Lando Calrissian. Poe is going on vacation with them. I don’t know who’s fucking who beyond that because I know how to mind my own business.”

Ben still looked sucker punched. Rey took pity on him.

“I am surprised you recognized the word polycule. Most school-to-prison pipeline architects would just call them swingers.”

“I saw it on dad’s Twitter feed. Had to look it up. I assumed he was joking.”

“Oh.”

Though he’d ignored the prison pipeline crack, Rey had a whole line of attack about what Mr. Social Media Distorts True Communication was doing on Twitter, the birthplace of Distorted True Communication. Ben looked so lost that she didn’t have the heart to continue. 

“Look, once you get an invoice, Let me know what I owe you. We can work out a payment plan.”

“We’re not going to set up a payment plan. We started at the Yularen ER, and if we’d stayed there you might just be seeing a doctor now. Their x-ray machine is probably mule-powered. I chose to bring you here instead, so I should bear that cost. What’s more I can bear that cost.”

Somehow he delivered his whole pompous speech sounding more lost and uncertain and absent than he ever had before. They could figure out the payment plan later. The wave of energy that powered her through their quarrel was heading back out to sea, leaving Rey feeling drained yet oddly enlivened. During their relationship, she had dreaded arguments, fearing that every conflict would drive Ben out the door forever. She was starting to feel extremely childish for engaging in a screaming match at one of the country’s top research hospitals, but Ben hadn’t pulled back from her. Even as he tried to process his parents’ relationship status, she could feel his connection to her. She wasn’t sure what it meant, or what she wanted it to mean.

“I suppose we should see about getting me checked out then.”

He nodded distractedly. Rey wondered if Ben was going to be all right to drive. She didn’t know what sort of over engineered European sports car he was currently driving, but she was sure she could handle whatever it was.

*

The drive back to Rey’s apartment was silent. She’d tried to inveigle him into letting her drive, but Ben wasn’t about to allow someone in her condition behind the wheel. Some of the wind had gone out of her sails when she’d seen his current car was “only” a BMW 6 series. She’d muttered something about him finally growing up, and he supposed she wasn’t entirely wrong. Here he was gradually letting the fact that his parents had chosen to adopt an extremely unconventional relationship structure with two of their oldest friends and also perhaps a man no more than five years older than Ben himself sink into his mind. Hadn’t thrown anything thing. Hadn’t punched anything. Hadn’t yelled. Perhaps he was in shock.

His main focus was the road ahead of him. His secondary focus was turning his mind from his parents to concentrate on the road ahead of him. At the corner of his awareness, he noticed Rey fiddling with the audio set up, sampling station after station. She finally settled on holiday music, sending him a mischievous, challenging look. He began to hum along absentmindedly. Now she looked concerned. This wasn’t music he would ever choose, but the familiar song patterns gave him something easy and predictable to follow. Easy and predictable felt necessary right now.

*

Dawn was breaking as they pulled onto Rey’s block. She drifted between dozing and day dreaming, reflecting that it was just as well she hadn’t insisted on driving. The energy streak that had propelled her through the past few hours was well and truly gone. She was glad Ben wouldn’t have any problem carrying her.

In fact, he scooped her out of the passenger seat effortlessly and carried her into the well-worn rowhouse and up the stairs to her apartment. She struggled mightily to stay awake but was only barely conscious of the fact that there were two men in her living room, and one of them was Han Solo. She could feel Ben’s voice rumbling from his chest as much as hear it, but the rumble stopped abruptly as Ben carried her to her bedroom. Rey’s last thought before sleep finally wrestled her consciousness to the ground was that she didn’t recognize the sheets and comforter.

*

Ben had expected to see Mitaka at Rey’s apartment. He’d specifically instructed his assistant to stay. He had not expected Han Solo to be there as well. He had not expected to see his timid assistant conversing easily with his estranged and notorious father. That conversation ended as soon as Ben entered the room.

“Mitaka, you are free to go. Leave the receipts here, text me your preferred payment app, and I’ll reimburse you by the end of day. Thank you for performing extraordinary services.”

Mitaka responded with a goggle-eyed stare. He didn’t move from the sofa. Instead, his eyes darted between Ben and his father. Ben sighed and adjusted Rey’s weight in his arms.

“Your services are no longer required here. Go home, and catch up on your sleep. No need to go into the office today. Please do not try my patience,” Kylo said with as much calmness as he could muster.

“Ah, son, you were doing so well there. You talked to Dopheld like a human being. You said thank you. Now you’re talking like a comic book villain,” Han interjected comfortably.

“No, no, I should be going while I can keep my eyes open. The receipts are in the folder on the coffee table, Mr. Ren. It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Solo. I’ve been following your dad on Twitter for nearly two years! It’s crazy to think you’re related. I mean it makes a kind of sense, but it’s just so unexpected! I’m just babbling now. I really do need to get home. Goodnight, Mr. Ren, Mr. Solo. Or good morning? I don’t even know anymore.”

Mitaka moved with speed and palpable nervousness to the door of the apartment and into the night. If only his fellow guest had followed. Kylo faced his father full directly. The familiar lazy amusement slowly faded from Han’s face. Now his expression was serious and sad. It was more than Kylo could handle at the moment.

“I’m going to get Rey settled. Your assistance isn’t required.”

He carried Rey down the hall to her bedroom. He was pleased to see that Mitaka had replaced the soiled sheets and blankets with entirely new bedding as asked. Mitaka had laundered the sheets as asked, so he was able to tuck Rey into a clean and comfortable bed. He brushed her hair from her forehead but resisted the urge to caress her hair again. Instead, he headed back to the living room to deal with his father who, he was certain, would not have left.

“Be- Kylo, sorry, I’ll get better about that. Why don’t you head home? I can watch Rey for a while and rustle up some other folks to help.”

This all felt so strange. What had happened to his father that he was using the name Kylo with clumsy sincerity instead of sarcasm? Prison changed people, but did it do this to Han Solo? Every part of Kylo’s life was a struggle; here he was, seeing his father for the first time since Han was sentenced, in the home of his ex-girlfriend who had chosen a world of other people over him. Why did he feel the need to just stop, to relax into the current and let it carry him where it would? Who was he?

“No, I’m going to stay here. Rey asked for my help. You can’t have gotten much sleep yourself. The flight from Coronet is, what, two hours? Besides, you’re supposed to be going on vacation with your …” he trailed off, uncertain of the terminology to use. Did he want to express scorn? Confusion? Amused tolerance?

“The gang can entertain themselves without me. I’ll meet up with them when Rey’s back on her feet. You don’t have to do this on your own, Kylo.”

That name on top of everything else was just too strange. The point of the name Kylo was to distance himself from meaningless bonds. If his father could say that name with tenderness and concern, what purpose did it serve? It was a mask in the form of his actual face.

“Everything is under control here, father. I have the situation here well in hand. Please go home and get some rest. The … gang would likely prefer you with them to away from them, so once you’re rested just go to them.”

The past twelve hours were far from the most frantic or traumatic of his life, but he’d never felt this deep weariness before, a longing not for sleep but for stillness. He didn’t know what he would do if his father refused to leave. For once that feeling wasn’t a portent of violence. He wanted quiet and solitude to look after Rey. Everything else was confusion and noise, and reverting to violence, even as a threat, would only intensify that maelstrom. Ben stood before his father, an exposed nerve.

“Ben,” his father sounded tired and old, but there was warmth in his voice.

“Ben. I’m going to go home and crash for a while. When I wake up, I’m going to check up on you kids. If you need help, let me know. I’m going to stay here for a few days till Rey is out of the woods. I’d like if we could go get coffee then. I could catch you up on me and your mom. If you’ve got questions about the gang, I can answer ‘em. Maybe you can tell me about what’s going on with you.”

Ben couldn’t find words to respond, just nodded. Han nodded back and left the apartment. He needed to check on Rey.

*  
The next few days were a blur for Rey. She slept a lot, close to hibernating. When she woke Ben and sometimes Han would make sure she had food and water. She’d called Finn and other folks to apologize for dropping out of sight and had been promised severe scoldings when she was back on her feet. Ben let her use his laptop to watch stuff in bed. He seemed to be getting along with Han, which didn’t fit with how she thought things were between them.

Rey was fine with that. How much had Ben changed? It was hard to tell; even at his most condescending and controlling, he wasn’t the type to badger a sick person about whether she’d looked at that college application yet. Still, as Rey’s strength returned, hope came with it. The hope was new and undefined, but she was content to just let it grow for now. When they returned to normal life, she could test and question. Now was a time for letting him care for her. She could live with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Han kind of took over this chapter. In the final chapter, Rey and Ben start to grow closer. Rey deals with annoyed friends. Ben learns the consequences of skipping work for a week.


End file.
